A Dagger Named Draco
by Katrina Puffinstuf
Summary: A sequel to fic 'Melancholic'... Harry must explain his affair with Draco to Ron, but how can he do it, especially after Ron has lost a brother? HR, HD
1. Chapter 1

A Dagger Named Draco

_Sequel to 'Melancholic'_

Part 1:

"I don 't understand you sometimes!" spat Hermione from across the room. She had a book in her hand and was waving it threateningly above her head. With her hair flying about and eyes narrowed, she looked curiously like some kind of Amazon, a crazed one, mind you. I always kind of liked it when she acted like this because she was most beautiful when all riled up. I guess I could pin her for being the sole reason I remained bisexual. Her tomboyish ways were alluring. She could get any man going if she wanted to, but after tonight, I know for sure that she would most likely not want to fool around with anyone, especially with someone who just slept with the infamous Draco Malfoy.

When I told her that I cheated on Ron, I tried to explain the circumstances to her. Draco had enticed me, completely obliterated all of my ethical sense, and above all, betrayed his word. He told me he would stop me, but he teased me all the same. He knew how to make me crazy, no doubt. Surely she could understand how helpless I was.

Of course, she did not. Instead, she threw a book at me. _Hogwarts: A History_, to be exact. Let me tell you, it is not a bit of light reading, I don't care what _anyone _says. And now, she was winding up again. _Ancient Runes and their Hidden Meanings_ did not look any smaller than the previous book, so I ran behind one of the sofas.

"How could you be so completely and utterly tactless?!" she shrilled. "Ron has never, not once, been disloyal, and you... haven't you learned your lesson by now? This is your second time!! _Your-second-bloody-time_!!!" She whipped the book at my head. Luckily, I dodged it, and it hit the wall with a slap and a thud as it hit the floor.

"I know, I know!" I said, coming out from behind the sofa. "I am not trying to plead innocent here, I'm just trying to tell you the circumstances so maybe you would-"

"Understand? _Understand?_ You just couldn't keep it in your pants, could you? You just _had_ to have it right there and then, right?" she yelled, going for another book.

I put my hand on the newest weapon, holding it down and keeping it there. "I-I-I'm sorry. Apparently, there is no way for you to understand," I said very quietly. "You know I can't have meant to do it. I love Ron, I really, really, _really_ do love him. It's just that-"

Hermione took in a few very deep breaths and said slowly and scathingly, almost lethally, "You have quite a way of showing it, don't you, Harry?"

"It was a mistake," I pleaded quickly. "It won't happen again; I mean it this time. I just need to figure out what to do. The guilt is killing me, Hermione. You are the only person I can go to for advice." I breathed deeply, the immensity of my mistake hitting me again with full force. I collapsed into the chair next to the fire, laid my head in my hands, and cried. "For Merlin's sake, what the _hell_ do I do now?" I muttered to myself.

"You tell him, that's what," said Hermione firmly. Damn her impeccable sense of hearing to all hell. I should know by now I can't talk to myself when she is around.

"He'll break it off with me for good, this time," I said. "I know he will. Oh God, I _know_ he will..."

I have to admit that at this point, I was truly panicking. Was I losing it? Yes, I was losing it. Fuck, I _lost _it. I lost it two hours ago in the Astronomy Tower, and I will never get it back. Ever. This time, it all went too far.

What was worse was the fact that Hermione's hardened shell that she seemed to form against me ever since I told her about the incident still was not the slightest bit cracked. "Maybe you should have thought of that before you went along with Malfoy."

"Damn it, Hermione, call him Draco!"

Hermione scowled and growled at me when I said that. She put her hands on my shoulders quite roughly and forced my face upwards to hers as if she were a dementor simply _lusting _after me, wanting to suck my soul out of my mouth. "Get _Malfoy_ out of your head. Right. _Now_." Her eyes narrowed even further, and her glare was positively horrifying. I felt my lip begin to quiver. I always felt some feeling of awkwardness when girls were excessively close to me, but this time, I was fearing my life. The girl was livid, help her, and I was the not-exactly-innocent victim.

I had no choice but to lie and answer, "O.K.". It'd take a spell more powerful than anything Dumbledore could cast to get Draco out of my mind permanently. She eased up on me slightly, but still hovered over my face, still way too close for comfort. I blinked a few stray tears out of my eyes and said, "Now what? Do I just waltz upstairs and say, 'Sorry, Ron, but I accidently slept with Draco-"

"Again!" said Hermione, though she did not sound as angry as she did before. "Well, yes, that would be a start."

"I was being sarcastic." What a Gryffindor-esque thing to say...

"Do I look stupid to you?" she spat, leaving the chair area and pacing around the room, clearly thinking of something.

"No," I said truthfully. "Would I have come to you for help if you did?"

Ah, finally, the shell cracked. She let out a long, exhausted sigh. "Oh, goodness, Harry. What a mess you've gotten yourself into," she said sadly. She wedged herself into the chair right next to me, threw her arms around me, and squeezed. At last, the feeling of complete and utter loneliness was dissipating. My friend, my _true_ friend, was here to save the day.

I cried into her shoulder for some time, not realizing I was ruining her favorite sweater in the process. I kept asking myself why and how could I have done this to poor, unknowing old Ron. Ron who has always been there for me and taken me in when I had a horrible day. Ron who comforted me and loved me only with his entire being. Ron who gave me everything he had to give, even when it wasn't all that much.

That was when it hit me.

"Oh God," I muttered, "he deserves so much better than me."

Hermione was silent. I was hoping for a, "You are overreacting" or even a simple, "No", but this didn't come. Clearly this was a sign that she agreed with me somewhat.

"He does, doesn't he?" I said, peeling myself off of her and looking her in the face.

She looked away from me and answered my worst suspicions.

It felt like a Bludger hit me in the stomach when realization once again set in. The thing, the _only_ thing I could do was tell him what I did, and that he deserved someone who could love him unconditionally. It would be up to him, though. He would decide the final verdict, and I would have to live with that, no matter what.

I pulled my sorry self away from her and the chair. "I reckon I ought to tell him," I said cheerlessly, but resolutely, "before I change my mind."

My mind made up, I turned to walk up the stairs to the dormitories when a sort of terrified yelp came from Hermione's direction. I whipped around to see if she was alright. She had paled considerably, and she was biting her lower lip. Tears were filling in her eyes. "No, Harry. You can't tell him. Oh, why do I have to be so terribly _stupid_!"

Well, this was news to me. "You aren't terribly stupid," I said. "Why can't I tell him now and get this over with?"

"Something terrible happened today," she said through a sniffle, "to Ron... to the Weasleys."

My mind immediately went to the one thing that was quite adept at tearing up families. "Voldemort?" I inquired.

"No," she said. "Ron received a letter from Percy, today. The first one he's written since the collapse of the Ministry."

"Is that why he is-"

"No!" she yelped through tears. "Percy wrote that he was living on the streets of London, alone, broke, and without a wand. He said that he was 'coming home'." At this, she broke into a new wave of tears.

This boggled my mind quite a lot. I figured that a few members of the family, also known as everyone but Mrs. Weasley, would detest Percy's homecoming. Would they cry, though, upon finding out that he was going to be with them shortly? If anything, they would be angry.

"What's the problem with Percy coming home?" I asked, causing her to cry even harder.

"Harry," she said, her voice squeaky because of the crying. "Percy committed suicide."

Upon hearing those words, I slumped down onto the chair adjacent Hermione's and stared at the floor in disbelief. Once again, I let my face be buried in my hands. The tears kind of came and went, as I cried for poor Ron and then cursed Percy for being such a selfish git, right to the end. I could hear Hermione sobbing, and I cried for her, too. I cried for the Weasleys' and for Percy's poor girlfriend, Penelope, who had also been anxious to see Percy return. For a few moments, I forgot all about Draco.

For a few moments.

Hermione kindly reminded me, after she had calmed down, that it had to come out sooner or later, and it ought to be after the Percy thing calmed down a bit. I half-sighed with relief. At least the Draco issue would be postponed until later. Now, I had to go take care of Ron, who would most likely be in the worst shape.

I picked myself up off the couch and went towards the stairs to the dormitories. Behind one of those doors that lined the staircase walls, a boy was sitting. Perhaps he was laying down, standing up or pacing, but I know for sure that he was hurting. My job was to help him feel better as best as I could.


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2:

I opened the door to our dormitory and was submerged into world of dim candlelight. Then, I saw Ron in a most frightening position. He was sitting on the edge of the windowpane, his legs dangling over the edge of the castle, wearing nothing put a pair of shorts. He looked very pensive, which was unusual for him, staring up at the stars. When he finally noticed I was in the room, he said, "Oh, Harry! The stars are lovely tonight, aren't they?" His tone was bright. _Too_ bright.

"Erm, I didn't see them yet," I spoke. I took a few steps over to him.

"Wanna sit?" he asked congenially. "The stars are really quite lovely tonight!" He smiled at me, but it didn't seem right. It was too forced, the smile.

"Why don't we sit over here," I said, sitting down on my bed. "It's really rather cold out."

Ron's face took on an odd expression I could not read. "Why, are you afraid I might pull a Percy and jump?" he said somewhat bitterly. Apparently, he must've told Hermione to tell me, or otherwise came to the correct conclusion that she did.

I frowned at him slightly. "I was thinking that maybe we could just..." but I couldn't finish. I wanted to say something like "be together" or "cuddle", but the words would not come. Something was wrong, and that something was Draco prodding me mentally, as if to say, "_But **we **just had sex, you idiot!"_

"I understand," said Ron, practically jumping up from the window, giving me the scare of a lifetime. I swore he would fall. "You want to play, don't you?" He rushed over to the bed and tackled me onto it. I fell onto my back, feeling really quite uncomfortable. It wasn't even the fact that Draco and I were together a mere hour ago, but the fact that his brother had just killed himself, and he wants to fool _around_? This was not a conventional method of dealing with grief. Plus, Ron was _never_ this affectionate to me.

He kissed me playfully and mussed my hair more than it already was, and damn near tore my shirt off by the buttons, which still were not done up right. He wouldn't ever see that apparently. He broke away from me for a moment, stopping the kiss and licking his lips.

"You taste kinda funny," he said, wrinkling his nose at me as I panicked inside. "Like... coffee, not tea."

I was holding my breath because I half thought he was going to put it together that Draco always drank coffee, and I just happened to taste like coffee. However, I realized he was not in a right state. He brushed it aside and kept kissing me.

Still, by Ron's standards, he was being overly romantic. Under normal circumstances, had he done this, my heart would have leapt with such joy and pleasure that I most likely would have completely lost it. Unfortunately, these were the most abnormal circumstances I had ever been in, regarding my romance with him. Dead brother + unfaithful boyfriend extreme affection? Of course, he only knew of the one part. Still, none of it clicked together in my head. There was no way in heaven or hell that I could be turned on by this all, knowing what I knew. I couldn't fulfill his current need. I stopped him the moment he went for my jeans button.

"Ron," I said, pushing his hand away, "don't you think that maybe we should talk-"

"No," he said firmly, going for my jeans button again. Once again, if this were to happen at any other time, I would have been completely submissive to him-it would have made me crazier than anything, since he has NEVER been like this before. Instead, I forced myself to grab his hand and push it away.

"Ron, I'm serious," I said. "This is not right at all. We can't do this, not after what happened with-"

Ron sighed with extreme exasperation. "What the _hell_!" he said, rolling off me and turning onto his side. "All I try to do is try and make everything a little better and what happens? You just push me away!"

"You are putting off what needs to be done," I said, sitting up. "You need to accept it."

"No, I don't," he said stubbornly. "You have no idea what it is like to lose-"

I frowned at him and said, "Don't I?"

"Well, you never had to hear your Mum crying every single night for him when he ran away," said Ron. "You never had to get a letter from the London morgue saying a person, your brother, that had everything going for him and a family that loved him, did all they could for him, just go off and slit his wrists in a back alley. It didn't even come by owl. It came by Muggle mail! A wizard didn't even find him! And... we would have taken him back! We would of forgiven him!" he said, his voice quavering with little tears in his eyes, slamming his fist down on my pillow. "We wanted him back! And now my mother, she will never be the same again. Now, Percy's gone for good, and you know what? She'll be crying until the day she dies for him, and that is just because its her way. And... and..." He was full out sobbing, now. "This doesn't make sense! Why would he torment us like this? Why did he write us, say he is 'coming home', and then just go kill himself like that?"

I put my arms around Ron and hugged him, the poor thing. He buried his face in the hollow of my neck, sobbing hysterically. I had never seen him cry before, and after seeing it, I realized that he had just spilled his ever-loving guts out onto the table for me. He trusted me with all of his heart. This, in turn, made me want to vomit. My guilty conscience would not let me enjoy accepting his trust in me. Instead, Draco's smirking face decided to make yet another appearance in my head. I wanted to die.

Still, a minute possibility came forth from the depths of my mind. Perhaps, all of the distraction that Percy's untimely death created will distract everyone for long enough for me to deal with my guilt and get on with it. Maybe, just maybe, all of this will pass without events, and I wouldn't have to tell Ron a word of it. For a moment, that possibility almost seemed, well, possible.

For one single moment

I suddenly felt Ron pulled away from me, licking his lips. His expression on his face was something of curiosity. "Harry?"

"Yes?" I said, also quite curious.

"You taste like blood," he said, raising one eyebrow. "I mean, your neck. Is it bleeding?"

I felt my neck, wiped off a mixture of Ron's tears and what I thought was my sweat onto my finger, and tasted it. It was rather salty, apparently from Ron's tears, but it did taste like blood.

"Harry," he said seriously, "did you get attacked on your walk? I mean, why else would you be hurt there?"

"What walk?" I said, conveniently forgetting that my apparent excuse was going for a walk. "Oh, you mean my _walk_? Erm, no, I don't-" But then something exploded into my mind...

FLASHBACK

_"...fuck, yes, Draco. You know I hate that..." His teeth sank further into the flesh of my neck and shoulders. My body was writhing and contorting against his uncontrollably, undoubtedly suiting his every need. He stopped for a moment and looked at me in the eyes. _

_"But I love it, Potter, so you are going to have to live with it."_

end flashback

My eyes widened in horror as I clutched my hand to my neck. Ron looked at me with an expression of unwanted understanding. He shook his head and said, "No, it wouldn't be right. It could _not_ happen."

I did not speak. Instead, I froze. My eyes were set in panic mode, and I felt like I was going to throw up.

"You did, didn't you?" he said, trying to stay calm.

I mustered up the courage to say, "I don't exactly understand what you mean, Ron, I just-"

"Bullshit, you don't!" he said, raising his voice at me. "Who was it, Harry? I bet it was Finch-Fletchley. The git, I'll kill him, I swear I will!"

I tried my best appalled look and said, "It was _not_ Justin. It wasn't anybody!" The moment after I said that, however, I wished I hadn't. I had just crossed the line. I had lied. I had no point in arguing my case anymore. Even if he were to forgive me for cheating, he would not tolerate lying.

"You didn't?" he asked in that mock innocent tone, getting a surly look on his face. "Then why the hell are there bite marks all over you?!" He gave my shoulders a push. This angered me slightly, but he had every reason to be, didn't he?

I did not answer, fearing I would get myself into even more trouble. I slowly got out of the bed, and then felt Ron's entire weight come crushing down upon me. I landed onto the stone floor and cracked my head on it a little bit. For a moment, I was in a daze, but I came out of it as soon as I heard Ron screaming out to me again. He was standing now, pacing around me, his arms crossed and face furious.

"I was fucking _grieving_, Harry," he said, throwing his hands up into the air. "You come prancing in here trying to help me, knowing that you were out fucking Terry Boot up in his dorm only hours ago? Are you crazy?!"

"I was _not_ with Terry, will you lay off?" I said, trying to sit up. The pain from hitting my head was still very strong. He was not a light person, Ron, and he was strong as hell. A lot stronger than most of the guys here at Hogwarts.

"Abercrombie!" he roared.

"He's a second year, Ron!" I said with disgust.

"Seamus?!"

"Eh?" said someone, obviously Seamus, from the bed adjacent from mine.

"In bed," I said exasperatedly, struggling to get off of the floor.

"_Neville_?" he said. "I saw him leave the dorm around the time you did!"

"Neville is straight!" I yelled. "He likes your sister, for crying out loud!"

Ron lit a lamp, flooding the whole room with light. There were pleas from the other beds to shut it off, but Ron kept pacing, staring up at the ceiling.. I finally got enough strength to sit and stand up, though it was a long, slow process. Once I did, I faced him, trying to keep his attention on my face, staring him in the eyes. Ron had only noticed my neck, and knowing Draco and his, well, preferences, if my neck was bad, the rest of my body would be worse. Much, much worse.

"Please, Ron," I said softly. "Lets stop being like this, and lets just go to bed. We'll figure everything out in the morning." Did I think it would work? No, but it was worth a shot.

At this point, he was scanning the rest of my body, and I just closed my eyes, awaiting the blow.

"Who the hell..." he started, in amazement and disbelief. "You've got fucking _runes_ carved into you!"

"Do I?" I asked vaguely, looking down. Upon seeing my stomach and chest, I indeed saw runes. Not any old runes, either. _Dark_ ones. The kind that only Death Eaters and evil wizards use. Draco did do a number on me. Funny thing was, I couldn't even feel it being done.

"Hermione's told me about those," he said. His voice was not so angry, now. It was confused, rather. "Only dark folk know how to do them..." I looked up at him and saw his face calculating. He was putting together all of the pieces, slowly but surely. Soon, very soon, he would figure it all out, and he would say his name. I waited for his lips to come together to form that familiar 'M' shape.

"Malfoy," he said with a brute tone that made me cringe. "I should have known. The coffee taste in your mouth should have tipped me off from the start... I can't believe it! I can't believe _you_!"

I bowed my head in defeat. The easy part was over. Now, I had to see if there was anything salvageable from our once very, very good relationship, and now I see that we had the potential to be more than that. Great, perhaps. Maybe even amazing. I stabbed my best friend and lover in the back with a dagger... a blade that could only go by the name of Draco Malfoy.

"Harry," he said softly.

I said nothing.

"Harry, please talk to me," he begged in a whiny tone. "Tell me why you did this, Harry. Did he make you or something? I could maybe understand if he made you do it..."

"I can't tell you what you want to hear, and I can't really say anything to justify my actions," I said defeatedly. "No, he did not make me do it. Enticed me into it, but make me? No. I don't blame you if you want to end it. Just know that I do love you. I really do love you."

Fat tears rolled down his cheeks. Here stood my best friend for 6 years straight. He was the person that made me feel more at home with his family more than any other place I've been in my life. He who offered me his own bed when there wasn't enough room in his old house and took my hand when I was so very lonely, was standing here, crying because of me and my inability to control my emotions. "Why did it have to be him, Harry? Why is he so much better?"

"He's not," I said automatically, not really giving the question much thought.

"He is, I know you think he is," he said sadly. "It's cause he is richer, isn't it. Or maybe he looks better, right?"

"You know that has nothing to do with-"

"He can give you more, can't he?" said Ron. "Well, I'm so sorry that I can't be filthy fucking rich like him!"

"No, Ron, and if you would just try to understand me when I say this," I said slowly, "I went to the Tower on friendly intentions, only. I tried to patch up a relationship gone bad. It just... he just... _I_ just was not strong enough to overcome the temptation. For that, I am truly sorry. There is nothing more I can say, Ron. Only that I love you. That's the only real, solid truth I know right now."

I took out my wand and began to try and charm off the runes that had been placed there. They were beginning to sting a little. I sat down on my bed, wishing that Hermione was here to help me with this. While the guilt and weight in my stomach was basically gone, I still felt like I wanted to die.

Ron walked over to me and sat next to me. I tried my hardest to busy myself with other things. I did not want to look into his hurt face any longer because it made me want to drive a stake through my own heart.

"Harry," he called.

"Yes, Ron," I said quietly.

"What if I said that I didn't love you anymore?" he asked.

"I would feel even worse, if possible, than I do at this very moment," I said, in a matter-of-factly tone.

"Will you look at me, please?" he asked. "I want to tell you something."

This was it. He was going to end it, and he was going to do it slow and painfully. I swallowed my pride and turned my head up, and I only had enough time to see him lunge at me and kiss me like he has never kissed me ever before. I tried to protest, but he had already blocked any form of that from me with his lips and tongue. He wrenched the hangings closed and finally stopped kissing me, though he was still close enough to. I could feel his breath on my face, and his heart pounding against mine. My mind, which was in a whirlwind before, was now so confused that it just wanted to shut off.

"Ron," I whispered, "you do realize what you are doing, right?"

"I realize, Harry, that I am still so very in love with you!" he exclaimed. "I would rather die than to have it any other way. I accept your apology wholeheartedly, and would love to start this relationship over. Everything will be right from the start. Do you want to?"

I let my head drop back on the pillow. "This cannot be real," I muttered. Where the _hell_ do I get this luck?

"It is, though," said Ron. "That's the beauty of these things called chances. I trust you, Harry. I don't know Draco personally, the way you do and all, but he seems to be very enticing all the same. I suppose I am glad it wasn't Abercrombie. I'll give myself more credit than that, thank you very much!"

I smiled at him, realizing he was genuine, not making it up or anything. He smiled back and said, "I love you, Harry, and I know more than anything else in this world that you love me."

I nodded, saying, "Yeah." I guess I was still pretty dazed, and you know, this technically wasn't fair at all, with the way I'm supposed to get what I deserve right about now. I'm not complaining, though.

We began kissing again, furiously, as if we had been away from each other for the longest time. I had never been with him like this before. He had always been so timid when it came to expressing affection and certain instances of pleasure, but this time, it was like he found a whole other side of himself within him.

I will most likely never forget the end of it all, when we finished. I never, ever felt so contented, and yet so wasted, in my life. There was Ron, holding me so close to him, smiling, and I was smiling too. We slept together that night, in the same bed. Usually, this never happened, since he insisted that our dorm-mates were 'not ready' to see this kind of thing. This time, though, he insisted upon not wanting to leave my side. It was perfect, really. Very, very good, great, or amazing would not do this night any justice. Ron and I were completely and truly perfect.

For _one_ night...


	3. Chapter 3

Part 3:

The next day, I woke up sore all over and extremely happy. I was keen to see Ron's face and hoping to hear a happy, "Good Morning!" Perhaps, he would be in the mood for a quick one before Potions. I rolled over, sure that he would still be there.

He was not, though. There was a crumpled piece of paper I seemed to have laid on during the night. My heart started to pound.

I recognized Ron's untidy scrawl immediately. It read:

_Harry,_

_I would rather die than to not love you, but after thinking about Malfoy and Percy and my family, I figured that there is no other way. So I choose to follow my brother. Know that I loved you until my last breath, for any longer would not be fair to you nor I, nor my family, nor anyone else. Do not bother coming after me, because I will be long gone when you find me. Please tell my mother that I could not choose, and that were she to force me, I would be perpetually miserable. Either way, this was the outcome. I love you,_

_-Ron_

I folded the note neatly, refusing to believe its contents. Ron was playing some kind of sick joke. I knew it. Ron would not do what he was insinuating he was going to do--kill himself. He could not. He simply must not, _could_ not... especially after our reconciliation last night. That was a once in a lifetime thing... this second chance! I couldn't let it go.

I got out of bed quickly and looked around for some faces that might know what was going on. The dorm was deserted, so I bolted down the stairs with the note in hand, pulling on a shirt and pants. I saw Hermione at the bottom of the stair, holding her hand over her mouth, tears streaming soundlessly down her face. She was speechless. My eyes widened with horror as she led me into the common room. There was a small pool of blood a few steps from the portrait, and a path of little droplets were branching from it.

"Did you follow it?" I asked Hermione frantically, grabbing her hand. "Please tell me that it's not him."

"I didn't follow it," she said quietly, "but someone else did,"

"Who?" I asked, but Hermione just pointed in the direction of the portrait. I walked out and opened the door only to find the absolute last person I wanted to see in the entire world.

"What the hell are you doing around here, Malfoy?" I spat at him.

"I've come to tell you that Ron is trying to kill himself," he said calmly, "with a knife he stole from me." His eyes locked with mine lazily. Under normal circumstances, I would have been able to drown in those two grey pools of eyes. These were, however, absolutely abnormal circumstances, and that look had never angered me more in my life.

I immediately shoved him up against the wall, causing him to shriek in surprise, along with Hermione. My teeth were gritted and fists clenched around his shoulders. "Malfoy, if you don't tell me where he is, I swear to you that I will kill you right here, with my bare hands."

After the initial shock of being completely taken by surprise, his eyes went back to normal, and he spoke coolly, though not sneeringly, "You know the place where he is well, Potter, and if you aren't nice to me, I will not tell you anything else, so unless you mean to handle me that harshly in a different way, please get your hands off of me."

I let go of him, reluctantly, feeling no sort of love or even lust for him, but still, I could not bring myself to hex him after that remark. "Where is he, then?"

"Exactly where we were last night," he said through the corner of his lips, trying not to let Hermione overhear, "up in the old Tower."

"And you said he was trying to kill himself?" I asked.

"Yes," he said in a nonchalant fashion. "He was, you know, all hacking at his wrists and stuff, crying bloody murder, carving a few simple runes into his arms and whatnot. Naked, too. I am not surprised you went for a guy like him, Potter. You do not have bad taste, after all. I never would have thought of Weasley like-"

SMACK! Not for the first time in her life, Hermione slapped Malfoy full on in the face. "You sadistic pig!" she screamed. "I swear, if Harry didn't make me promise not to kill you..."

"Come on, Hermione!" I said, ending her rant and grabbing her hand. "We need to find Ron, and fast!" We began to run, following the trail of Ron's blood. Draco apparently followed us, because when we got to the door of the Tower, he was right beside me.

"Draco, get out of here," I said. "Do you really think you are helping by coming along?"

"Yes, I really do think I am," he said snottily. "He has the door locked 10 different times."

"Anyone can unlock a door, Malfoy," said Hermione smartly, pulling out her wand.

"Not if the locks are of dark origin, Princess Know-It-All," he said, mocking her tone of voice. "When Ron locked this door, he activated the spell I put on it last night. A good girl like you wouldn't know the spell."

Hermione stayed silent and scowling as Draco showed her up, muttering an incantation of some sort, and as the last lock unlatched, I bolted into that room without even looking. The moment I saw my poor friend's mangled body, my strength immediately dwindled. I dragged myself as fast as I could over to his side, kneeling in a pool of his own blood.

"Ron?" I called, touching his lukewarm shoulders gently. "Ron, you have to answer! Come on!" I shook him frantically, and he let out a yowl of pain.

"Thank goodness!" I said with a sigh relief. "You're still here. You are still hanging on!"

"Damn it," he said with a small smile, "I can't seem to do anything right these days."

"Don't joke like that," I told him. "We're going to get you out of here, get you to St. Mungo's, and then you'll be back like nothing ever happened."

"Harry, that's the problem right there," said Ron, coughing up a glut of blood. "It already happened. Draco and you... Percy... my family finding out... about it all... Harry, we could not go on, and really, I meant what I said. I c-c-can't not love you, but I can't leave my family, and they are ready to disown me... cause of you and me, you know, being together and all... If I can't have you, and I can't have my family, then what else can I have. I cannot choose between that, Harry. Can_not_ do it."

"But your family will learn, with time!" I said loudly. "I know it is not what they are used to, but they will accept it. Percy... well, he was troubled. He had been troubled for a long time, and Draco and I... we were just a fluke!"

"No, you weren't," said Ron thickly, to my disbelief. "You two need to stick together. You'll be happier, and so will he, if you love him as you would've loved me." At this, Ron retched blood once again. His eyes began to flutter shut.

"I don't care about that, Ron," I pleaded. "Oh, God, Ron, hang on! I mean it! Do it for me, the one you used to know as a best friend. Or Hermione... do it for her, if you won't for me! She cares so much about you."

"She'll understand," he said very slowly, "i-i-if she cares like you say she does." His eyes began to close.

"No!" I whispered. Now, I was at a loss of what to do. Blood was flowing from him every which way. I tore off strips of my shirt to try and help the blood clot, but he groaned each time I tried to wrap them around one of the wounds. I could not bear to hear him lament his pain like that.

"Please, if you let me go, I'll be better," he said, weakly smiling, "and you will be someday, too. We'll all be together again, so don't worry."

I didn't know what to say. "I...I love you." Yes, that seemed the only right thing I could possibly say.

"I know you do, and I love you," he said, blood flowing out of the corners of his mouth. "K-k-kept my word. I will love you until I die. Oh, and give this back to Draco." His other hand feebly fumbled around with a blade, made of silver, no doubt. "See, I called him Draco. Isn't that nice?"

I nodded my head, taking the dagger away from him, realizing he was losing it. I noticed that with the amount of blood about the room, there was no way human, or even wizard, that I could save him, at this point. I grabbed his hand and squeezed it. He smiled very, very weakly.

"Oh, Harry!" he exclaimed suddenly. "Percy was right! The letter... it is coming home! Just like..."

And as his eyes closed, his expression became very peaceful, and that subtle smile stayed on his face. He let out his last breath and was no more. I felt his hand go limp, and then, I placed it atop his sunken stomach.

As I got up, my pants soaking with his blood, I turned to see if Hermione and Draco had left yet. They had not, and Hermione was, surprisingly, clinging to Draco, sobbing silently. Draco looked as if he were in very awkward position, indeed. I took out the knife in front of him and examined it. Inscribed on the blade was his name, in the tiniest of tiny letters.

"This is yours, I guess," I said, handing him the blade. He, who was still holding poor Hermione, took it from me, wiped it, and pocketed it in his robes.

"Thanks," he said. It sounded really weird, a thank you coming from Malfoy. All the same, he did it. He then pulled Hermione off of him. "Why don't you go with Harry, now?"

Hermione nodded and went over to me with her head bowed. "Thank you for tolerating me."

Draco acknowledged her thanks, but did not respond with words. "Harry..." he said with a sigh.

"What?" I said sharply. I didn't mean to sound so short but couldn't really help it.

"You are going to blame me for this, right?" he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

My mind was elsewhere, however--most likely mingling with my poor Ron's soul, somewhere in the vicinity between here and purgatory. What he said did not hit me until seconds later, when he repeated himself.

"So, are you?" he asked.

"Huh?"

"Going to blame me?" he said softly. I would almost say his voice was gentle but knew better, since it was Draco.

"No, of course not," I said quickly. "That would be stupid, since the blame lies solely with me... or Percy... or his mum... or society..."

"I guess that we should to talk sometime. You have to understand that this will not be easy, if this ever works out. My father still thinks I'm on his side."

"That sometime we talk will have to be later," I said, half holding-half carrying Hermione. "I need to sort things out before I can think about another relationship, especially with you, after the things you said to me last night."

"For that, I am sorry," he said through gritted teeth. Ah, an apology is another thing that sounds foreign in a Malfoy's mouth. "I can understand if you don't want to try it. The only thing I know is that when this is all over, I _can _be here... for you. Otherwise, I can't justify the way I've been towards you in the past."

I was thinking of how he said the exact opposite words last night; I could still hear him saying them, and it burned me. I said nothing.

"If you don't want to give it a shot, I will understand," continued Draco. "But think of it--your Order could benefit too, you know? I could--" he dropped his voice significantly, "I could spy for you. I would be a great asset. I'll go through all of your loyalty tests and things, I really will. What is better is the fact that we won't be so stupid about everything--maybe we won't have to taunt each other anymore. But... I could understand if you don't want to. I promise, I won't sell you out to Voldemort if you refuse."

"Your promises don't seem to work out so well," I said somewhat angrily, looking him over. Yet, perhaps this offer was something to take into consideration. There was something in his resolute expression that was never there before. Perhaps it was the unconfident manner he held himself as opposed to his usual confident style, or maybe it was because his voice kept cracking, or maybe it was because his eyes were tearing up (and Malfoys NEVER cried). All in all, something told me he was being completely sincere.

"Well," I said, "there are such things as second chances, Draco."

"I didn't know that," said Draco. "I really wish I'd have known it before."

We shook hands after that, not saying another word, and then parted ways. He went up to the Slytherin dormitories, perhaps to think or do a bit of studying. Hermione went up to Dumbledore's office, to tell about the incident. Me? I'm up to Gryffindor Tower to write the hardest letter I've ever had to write in my life---the death notice of Mrs. Weasley's youngest son.


End file.
